


You Twist To Fit The Mold That I Am In

by noos



Series: Sunny Drabbles [2]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: Again, M/M, i don't even, i kinda like this though, i'm babbling, it was elany's idea, it's relaxing tbh, mario teaches marco to take selfies, or tries to
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-23
Updated: 2015-08-23
Packaged: 2018-04-16 21:26:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4640754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noos/pseuds/noos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Sunday morning, the first one they've had together in over three weeks, and they're lazily sprawled in bed together, sheets tangled around their legs and arms curled together. And instead of doing something productive like making out or getting breakfast in bed, Mario wants to lecture Marco on the art of taking a selfie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Twist To Fit The Mold That I Am In

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Elany](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elany/gifts).



> Yeah, on a miniature roll right now with these two. But again, you can blame Elany for this one. It's just our collective Götzeus banter is driving me up the wall and then she throws this idea at me AND WATCHES ME SUFFER. (But- it was totally me asking her to shoot headcanons at me, so I should maybe blame myself.)
> 
> Title from the Maroon 5 song.

"No Mario, no. I am not doing this right now. This is not going to turn into one of those things you end up teaching me to do."

"Come ooon," Mario says in his whiniest voice, pouting his lips deliciously, and Marco absolutely _hates_ him for it.

It's Sunday morning, the first one they've had together in over three weeks, and they're lazily sprawled in bed together, sheets tangled around their legs and arms curled together. And instead of doing something productive like making out or getting breakfast in bed, Mario wants to lecture Marco on the art of taking a selfie. Someone please remind him why he loves that boy again?

"But Marcooo, you barely update your Instagram page, and when you do it's always awkward selfies of you and Auba where both your noses look a lot bigger than they really are," Mario wails in his most dramatic voice, like a bigger problem than the one they're discussing right now has never existed.

Marco raises his eyebrows for a moment, his hand self-consciously cupping around his nose. He has a perfectly normal-sized nose, thank you very much.

"Mario, for the love of- I don't care about taking selfies or Instagram, I just want to spend some time with you," he shakes his head and tries to reason, groaning as he turns to look at his boyfriend, fully aware he's going to lose this battle. And how could he not, really, when Mario's eyes are doing that weird wide thing that makes Marco feel like he's this biggest jerk on this planet, which is saying something, because there are people like Pep Guardiola on this same planet. "This is fucking emotional blackmail," Marco mutters in his most annoyed voice, rubbing his nose with his palm and closing his eyes for a beat. "Stop looking at me like that and get your phone," he groans again, using his palm to hide his smile when his boyfriend squeals in delight next to him and presses an excited kiss to his cheek.

Mario leans over Marco, reaching blindly for the nightstand, and he's way too happy to have Mario back and pressed this close to him to complain about his breath getting knocked out of him when Mario elbows him a little too hard in the ribs in his quest to find the phones.

"Okay," Mario starts, lying back next to Marco and propping both their phones up on his chest. "First of all, we have to download Cymera for you so you can edit the pictures before you post-"

"Download what?" Marco interrupts, turning on his side to look at Mario.

"Cymera. So you can choose the right filters and the best coloring and the effects for your selfie," Mario says so matter-of-factly, like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"What's wrong with my coloring?" Mario argues. He's slightly insulted here, if he's being honest, because he's always been a little self-conscious about his rather pasty complexion, but he thought at least Mario liked him for his pale self. "And what the fuck are filters?"

"Your coloring is fine, Marco," Mario chuckles, looking at his boyfriend like he's the most naive little thing and it kind of drives Marco crazy. "But sometimes the lighting is off, and you use filters to fix that, sometimes add a little artistic touch to your selfies before you post them."

"Come on, Sunny," Mario whines, scooting closer to Mario and burying his face in his shoulder. "I thought you were only going to teach me how to angle the camera right to get the best frame for my face," he continues, his voice muffled as he presses kisses to his boyfriend's shoulder.

"Half your face," Mario counters, raising his fingers high in the air and Marco pulls back to look at him quizzically. "First rule of selfie-taking. Always photograph half your face. It makes for better pictures."

"That's easy for you to say," Marco shoots back, raising his eyebrows at Mario. "Your face is perfectly symmetrical. My face, on the other hand, is about as straight as I am."

Mario barks a laugh next to Marco and the latter can't stop the proud smile that lights up his face despite the less than thrilling topic. He loves making Mario laugh. It's among his top five activities along with football and making Mario fall apart under his touch.

"I happen to love your lopsided face," Mario reassures, tracing Marco's jaw lightly with his fingers, and Marco can't help but close his eyes, relaxing marginally at the comforting touch. "And maybe if you take a picture of half your face, your smile won't look so crooked."

"Depending on which side it is, maybe people won't recognize me at all," Marco shrugs, linking his fingers with Mario's and bringing them to his lips.

"Right, like there's anyone in the world who can't point you out in a crowd," Mario dismisses, turning to look at the phone again.

"I wasn't even in the World Cup," Marco argues. "I'm still a relative unknown outside of Europe."

"Good for you then," Mario quips, rolling his eyes and tempting Marco to laugh. "You've only got around one billion people to fool," he continues before looking at the device again. "This is so slow, the app is going to take forever to download."

"Well," Marco smiles wickedly, tracing Mario's jaw with his nose before pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "I can think of a few things to do to keep busy until then," he whispers, kissing down Mario's neck and onto his collarbone, moving around until he's nearly on top of Mario, and he's pleasantly surprised to find he's nearly as turned on as he is. Marco himself is half-hard already, and the way Mario's nearly purring in his ear is not helping. "Maybe put my lopsided mouth to good use," he adds, smiling into his boyfriend's skin when the latter gasps audibly.

"You'll still- let- fuck yes, Marco- still let me teach yo- oh, shit- about textures later," Mario whispers breathlessly, throwing the phones away and tangling his hands in Marco's hair, the latter slowly licking and sucking and kissing his way down his naked chest.

"Of course," Marco reassures, licking along Mario's waistline and cupping him over his boxer briefs, smiling when Mario mutters another expletive at the sudden touch. He looks up for a moment, watches his boyfriend let out a moan of pleasure when Marco pinches his nipple before looking at him with lidded eyes, and Marco can swear he's never seen anyone more beautiful, knows he won't ever love anyone as much. "Anything for you, Sunny."


End file.
